With Light Comes a Shadow
by doesthisdarknesshaveaname
Summary: It is their 6th year at Hogwarts, and for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, almost nothing seems to be going right. Two of the most opposite people in the world discover that they have so much to share. The misunderstood and the courageous are brought together- and torn apart- to make long lasting memories. Sadly, though, nothing is forever. Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING
1. Chapter 1

**Hermione Granger:**

I never wanted this all to happen. My life may not have been normal before, but it still wasn't as complex as it is now. When I first came to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I expected that I would study hard, earn prominent grades, and leave as an exemplary witch. But my first day actually changed my whole life entirely, when I met Harry Potter. His piercing green eyes might have caught any Muggle's attention, but it was for us wizards who noticed the lightning scar across his forehead. Becoming friends with Harry was sort of like a package deal, in which I had to become friends with Ronald Weasley as well. He wasn't really someone I enjoyed in the first two years I was learning here, but as time went on, I grew quite fond of him.

We had shared many memories together, most of them near-death experiences, but nevertheless he proved to be no more brave than I was. Hardly ever seeing eye to eye, it was one of those situations where we were the last two deformed pieces of the puzzle; vital to the entire operation, and although we didn't necessarily fit perfectly together, we barely managed to come through.

We have few of the same characteristics, but our differences by far overruled. While I spend my days in the library, studying for our upcoming NEWTs, he is at quidditch practice from dawn until dusk, going to sleep immediately afterwards. While I came up with the logical solutions to problems we faced while fighting battles alongside Harry, he tended to linger behind, coming up with quick, hastily put together ideas at the near to last second. I guess he is, in a way, a heroic figure, but he takes too many situations in a care-free manner.

If he was to go down in history, people would remember him for his strong stature and sardonic sense of humor; not for being a hard worker. I, on the other hand, would be remembered for my cleverness and knowledge. Sadly, people tend to remember the more fighting-natured sort, leaving the ones with the brains out of their span of remembrance.

Ron and I are both brave people, earning us our righteous place in the category of those who care deeply for their loved ones. Ron has always wanted to protect both me and Harry from the beginning of first year, no matter how much he may deny it. He tends to cover up his emotional state with unintentionally hurtful jokes, more often than not resulting in somebody's feelings getting crushed.

As it is my sixth year here at Hogwarts, time has somehow allotted me to find a single moment when I started to fancy Ron, which caught me off guard. He is a no good hypocrite and in some points in my life, I wish I had never met him. Nonetheless, my fondness towards him blossomed after a while, growing to become a major issue. I constantly remind myself of the list of reasons why I shouldn't like him (and there are quite a few), but my heart swiftly erases it all from my memory and pulls me back in.

One of the biggest reasons I can't go and tell Ron how I really feel is because he is currently dating Lavender Brown. She never really considered me a friend, more of an acquaintance. She was so attached to Ron that Harry and I were practically forgotten. It didn't bother us though, because Harry had his quidditch practice almost all day and I had more homework than I could process.

It was a bit disturbing though, watching how close Ron and Lavender were. Not only did it make me flush with envy, but it made me disgusted. How could he handle her constantly snogging him? I've yet to see them actually complete a conversation without her interrupting, pulling him in so she could kiss him again. Honestly, it was revolting.

I've grown accustomed to eating only a partial amount of my meal with Harry and Ron, Lavender rushing Ron off only moments later to give him a new necklace or bracelet of some sort. He seemed to be getting slightly annoyed by her, although not admitting verbally to it yet, which made me, in a way, happy. It was an odd feeling of joy, more a sense of victory than anything. It felt like I had finally accomplished a very small step towards Lavender being put out of my way, a start on the road to Ron and I becoming more than just friends.

Sometimes I ponder the thought of rejection, the thought of being humiliated by his crude sense of humor if I were to ever tell him the truth. It made me cringe, as it has many times before, to think of Ron's forbidding jokes. They were innocent, simple, playful banter, but they really could make me think twice about myself. They made me look myself over prudently in the mirror every morning, constantly mow over what I'll say before I speak it, and overall, not wanting to have any exposed flaws open for humiliation. It made me feel insecure about myself, like I'll never be good enough. And that was one of the biggest things I questioned within my mind.

Why do I constantly attempt to impress someone who can never come out and compliment anybody, nor themselves? There were a lot of possibilities on why this was, endless, in fact, and I don't believe I'll ever narrow it down to one sure thing. Unless I ask of course, which is completely out of the question. He'll just laugh and think it's a game, throwing me another one of his insulting comments. It infuriated me how often he'd do that.

I often long for a friend who is a girl, one that could be as close to me as Harry is. I can tell Harry a lot of things, just as I had told him how I felt about Ron the night Gryffindor won their first game with Ron as keeper, Lavender sneaking him off so she could snog him in private. He felt the same towards me, shining a small shade of truth on how he fancied Ginny. We could share secrets with each other without regret or worry of anyone else finding out, but a few things we kept to ourselves, fearing that the other might not understand. We shared a brother and sisterly love.

Ron and I shared the same kind of love, but we were the kind of siblings who always bickered. I grew up as an only child, keeping in my secrets only because I had no one compatible to share them with. He grew up in a large family, keeping in secrets because he had the fear of whomever he told revealing what he'd said to another. Different childhoods raised us up to have an unalike level of openness towards each other now.

I looked across the floor of the Gryffindor common room, seeking for accompaniment. Everyone had already gone to bed, no one in their right mind willing to stay up this late. I, on the other hand, had no choice, unless I would face a bad mark on my classwork. I had procrastinated a few of my essays until the last minute – scolding myself for taking Ron's way of handling things—purely because my mind could not focus on anything longer than a few seconds without wandering off to daydream about the relationship I could never have.

It was a frigid cold Wednesday like any other day this winter, and I was finishing up my Transfigurations essay on the proper way to transform a cat into a bucket. I find it rather irritating we have to write up how to do magic instead of actually performing it, but whatever pleases the teachers is fine by me.

Gingerly, I picked up my finished essay, careful not to smear the ink across the fresh parchment. I smiled, admiring my precise handwriting and intricate details. For last-minute work, it looked like it had been writen weeks in advance.

"Finally," I whispered to myself as I looked up at the clock. I sighed. It was half past twelve. I had hardly gotten a wink of sleep in the past few weeks, getting an overload of homework and tests to study for from each of my advanced course teachers.

Drawling a long yawn, I stretched out in front of the common room fire. It was deserted and quiet, yet serene, as the moonlight shone against the cold wooden floors. I closed my eyes and laid my cheek against the palm of my hand, taking in a deep breath. I was about to fall into a deep sleep when suddenly Ron stormed into the room.

"Hermione!" He roared, barging through the fat ladies portrait.

I sat bolt up, looking over in his direction. Seeing the anger reflecting in his eyes as they fixated themselves upon me, the way his jaw was clamped tightly together, the way he trembled slightly; these were all things Ron did when he was at the verge of his braking point. He has a very low tolerance for quickly arisen problems that affected him in a negative way, his moodiness not a very good contributing factor either. Ron was angry, that was clear, and I knew exactly why.

Earlier that evening, I ran into Lavender as I was heading to Potions. I wasn't looking where I was going, dazed off in another fantasy about Ron, and I knocked her books right out of her hands. Naturally, she was not happy with me, and started cursing me out, saying that I'd done it on purpose.

"Nice job," She sneered sarcastically, folding her arms. I glared into her cynical eyes, disgusted by how she talked to me.

"Sorry," I said inconsiderately, not bothering to assist her in picking up her textbooks. She dropped to her knees, collecting the assortment of papers into one large stack as they had been before. While sorting through a few of her possessions, she looked up at me, clearly annoyed by my presence.

"You know you could help me."

"I know," I snapped, watching her bent down on the floor. She hastily shoved the parchment she was filing to the side, pursing her lips in frustration.

"You are such a stuck-up brat!" Lavender breathed, standing up to look me in the eye. Instead of taking a step backwards, I straightened up, not frightened by her. Actually, her senseless insults made me even more confident in my argument.

"At least I'm not an annoying freak." I hurled back, tilting my head to express fake pity. "Or being cheated on by my 'true love'"

I took in a sharp breath, realizing that I had just told a terrible lie. I watched as Lavender's face shifted from enragement to shock to pure sorrow. Regret replaced the fury inside me as she turned on her heels, running down the hallway, leaving her books strewn across the floor, sobbing deafeningly.

Lamenting the lie the moment I spoke it aloud, I knew that word would come back to Ron about what happened. He would be infuriated, I knew that, and my time had come to face his well-deserved ferocity.

"Yes, what is it?" I asked him curiously, eyebrow raised, pretending to be surprised. I tried to come across as calm and collected, but my tone sounded as if I was being strangled.

"Lavender… She told me what you said." He hissed, not buying my act. "Do you realize what a bloody mess you made? She refuses to talk to me, she thinks it true!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you do, Hermione, don't try and play innocent. You're just jealous, that's all."

"Jealous? Jealous of what? You… You and Lavender?" I strained my voice to sound like I wasn't envying their relationship, but obviously I'm better at writing essays then speaking a lie to my best friend's face.

"Yes, that's exactly what you're jealous of. Everyone knows it, Hermione. Don't try to act like it's not true. You're in love with me, and not one person could convince me you're not."

My heart skipped a beat. Did he really find out that I fancy him? Who told him? If no one told him, why would he even think that? Is it really that obvious? A million questions were flooding into my mind about this, but I couldn't make any noise. I opened my mouth, and then closed it. I didn't want to seem stupid. Ron must have thought the situation was awkward too, because he looked down at the floor. When he looked back up though, the fire within his eyes had returned.

"Why did you tell Lavender that I was cheating on her? Who am I supposed to be cheating on her with? Why do you even have the urge to tell her that! To ruin my life? To ruin hers? You think you're so high above everyone, Hermione, but you really need to come back to earth, because when you take away your brains, you have nothing." He said this with a look of disgust on his face. Rage boiled up inside of me. How dare he jump to conclusions like that! Before I could even stop myself, I came right back at him with some hatred of my own.

"You, Ron, are the most stuck up and arrogant person I've ever met. You do nothing but sit around and wait for other people to do the work for you." The words came rushing out of my mouth and just kept on coming. Everything I had been holding inside of me over the past six years was finally being unleashed.

"Why am I even your friend? Oh right, because Harry is a good person who I want to be friends with, and you just happen to be with him all the time. You're like Malfoy. A stupid, snobby, careless little—" When I compared him to Malfoy, he just couldn't take it anymore. He raised his hand and it came across the side of my face. A mix of devastation, shock, and fear washed over me. My cheek burned, and I grasped it tightly. I stared, for a few seconds, at the wall, taking in what had just happened. Slowly, I turned to look back at his face, which was now filled with pure horror.

"Her- Hermione… I don't… I don't…" He stammered aimlessly, but I didn't have time for that. I was about to burst into tears at any given moment. Not because of the pain, but because of everything I had just done. I pushed passed him, ran through the fat lady's portrait, and fled down the stairs. I heard Ron running after me, but the thought of having to look him in the eyes and hear him apologize was just too much.

I heard another set of footsteps as well, more densely packed than Ron's, heading towards me from behind. Their walk was almost familiar to a duck waddle— short, incremented steps— but whoever it was had a quick pace, that was certain. I sped mine up to be one stride ahead of theirs, knowing that getting caught out of bed at a time like this would mean at least a weeks' worth of detention. I ducked around corners and didn't bother to take out my wand, my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit halls.

The sudden sound of metal crashing together echoed down the halls, making me stop in my tracks. The harsh ring of the clatter finally faded off into silence. No more footsteps. No more people. No more Ron. I breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall. I noticed that I was trembling, palms sweaty, my wand almost slipping out of my grasp.

"Who's there?" I heard a voice ask to no one in particular. My head snapped in the direction of whoever was talking, presumably the one who had just been chasing me. Every muscle in my body tensed.

"Student out of bed!" They cried, making me jump backwards in fear. I took off in the opposite direction, knowing that I was done for. I'd get caught, taken to Professor Dumbledore, have so many house points taken from Gryffindor… But then an odd realization came to mind: the footsteps were running away from me. I didn't have to wonder about why though, I was determined on escaping the grasps of trouble.

I broke into a sprint and kept going until I came to the girl's lavatory. I opened the door and closed it shut tightly, slamming my back against the wall. Sliding down to the floor, I buried my face in my hands. Why had I been such an idiot? I'm not one to lose my temper easily, nor was Ron. I had absolutely no chance with him now.

I wanted to start over. I wanted to go back to before I had lied to Lavender, this time being the better person and helping her with her textbooks. Life would be so much simpler, in fact, if I could go back to before I started to fancy Ron. I could tell myself everything I know now, and this would have never happened. Everything would be as it should; Harry and Ron playing quidditch while I studied contently, no heartbreaks causing tension.

If only I still had my time-turner, then I could actually fix everything, not just fantasize about it. If only I hadn't given it back to Professor McGonagall after third year. If only I hadn't been so stupid. And so easy it would have been, too, if I had kept it. Just a few turns back…

I had to realize the truth, though. I couldn't go back in time. I couldn't fix anything. What had been done was done, and Ron would remember it forever. Even if he were to forgive me and act like it never occurred, he would always remember it in the very back of his mind. That small quarrel we had would cause him a life-time of rethinking me.

My choked sobs came out muffled, my hands covering my mouth. I tried to be completely silent so nobody would find me. I really didn't want company at the moment. No one else would understand how devastated I was. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, the tears that stained my face reflecting in the small ray of moonlight coming from the windows. I had to continue in the time that was now.

(a/n): Well, that's the end of the first chapter. This is my first fan fiction so I realize this isn't very long or interesting quite yet... But trust me, I have a lot of ideas in store. If you guys review and find this okay, I have the second installment ready to go. This time in Draco's point of view, a tad bit more suspenseful than Hermione's. I desperately tried to sort out any grammar mistakes but if you happen to find one, tell me.

So, I believe that's it. Read and review! Thank you guys!


	2. Chapter 2

**Draco Malfoy:**

My father made me go to this dreaded school to 'advance my wizarding skills'. In my opinion, so far it has been a good 5 years wasted. All we learn is simple charms, how to transform a bird into a drinking goblet, and other useless facts such as when the first War of the Witches broke out. I don't see how this is ever going to help me in life, and I'm always trying to convince my father of this, but he refuses to let me leave. So here I am, my 6th year here, rotting away.

I had no interest whatsoever in spending yet another term here at Hogwarts. I didn't want to see what would happen. I didn't want to play with my chances. I didn't want to see who might die. Ever since the beginning of the school year, I had been, in the least of terms, depressed. It was sad that I had to block off my friends, keep myself isolated, sticking to the same monotonous routine. But I had to, or I'd find myself telling them everything.

My decisions have been made for me since I was a child. My father is controlling and ill-tempered, wanting me to be just like him and nothing less than perfection. Originally, I had wanted to get into Gryffindor house. I wanted to become friends with the famous Harry Potter, not the sons of my father's cohorts. But other plans had been arranged. My father told me to get into the Slytherin house or be punished severely, ignore Harry Potter and don't venture too close to him. I bleakly obeyed.

Eventually, my act became part of who I was known to be: A bully. People would look at me in disgust, turning their faces when I walked by. I pretended to be above it, but in reality, it was killing me inside. I've always been good at masking my emotions, which is a contributing factor to my mastering of Occlumency, but lately the pressure on me has been so intense that I can no longer handle it.

I go to the upper corridor boys' lavatory every other day and sob out my sorrows, the sounds of my cries echoing off of the cold stone-flag walls. I have grown quite fond of Moaning Myrtle in the process, for she comforts me when I feel alone. But when she offers me a hand to help me up, my grasp is merely reaching for a vanishing image in the air.

My entire family has consisted mostly of Death Eaters and villains, all of whom have encouraged the next generation to follow in their footsteps. Since the day that I was born, at least one of my relatives was locked up in Azkaban for some terrible crime they'd committed, thinking that they were influential. Seeing my deranged aunt Bellatrix behind bars gave me the chills, to know that I was so closely related to her. I vowed that day that I would never be sent to a place such as that.

Although I reject to doing any sort of kidnappings of torturing with the Death Eaters, I still unwillingly obey their commands. At the start of everything, I denied even being affiliated with them, knowing that it would come with severe consequences. The mere thought of allowing such people into the school where my friends were sleeping innocently, unaware they were in grave danger, made me wince. Yet when my family's lives as well as mine came to risk, I couldn't help but give in.

When I was first told what I was to do, I fell into a state of shock. I felt rooted to the spot, as though I should have been killed on the spot to make life easier. Sadly, though, I continued to live on, knowing that I was now the one who was assigned to murder Albus Dumbledore. The odds were extremely improbable, him being the greatest headmaster of Hogwarts anyone had ever seen, and me being a mere 6th year. The task itself was a looming amount of devastation waiting to happen.

Since the day that Katie Bell had been hexed by the necklace I cursed, I could hardly stand myself. It was bad enough that I feebly attempted to kill Dumbledore with a miniscule piece of jewelry, and even worse to know that I hurt an innocent girl instead. I didn't want to be a Death Eater anymore, my arm red where the Dark Mark was branded upon me, my body obviously rejecting it. Yet, despite it all, I had to try again. It was better for Dumbledore to be killed by an anonymous 'accident' rather than me becoming an assassin in history.

I had nothing to distract myself from the inevitable issue. I had paid someone at the beginning of term to take over my position on the quidditch team for most games, thinking it would give me extra time to plan the entire mission. Instead, it gave me excessive amounts of time to worry about how I just couldn't accomplish it.

I had a small opportunity to get a vial of Felix Felisis during potions with Slughorn, but Harry got it instead. That small dose of liquid luck was sure to make all of my endeavors succeed with ease, and that was the one thing I wanted—no, needed – so desperately. I say that Slughorn favors him, that's why he is 'coincidentally' having Harry be the best in the class. Yet neither of them will never understand how vital that potion might have been to me. It could have saved me from a murderous fate.

The school year had already flown by fast, term almost half over. I knew that I couldn't keep putting it off. I had to kill Dumbledore sooner or later, or Voldemort would kill me without a second thought. I heaved a great sigh, placing my hand on the cold window. Looking out the foggy stained glass, I saw the flags of the quidditch pitch waving violently in the icy winds. I missed playing with my team, the rush of flying on a broomstick. Although I enjoy it, I knew I didn't have time to play games.

I sat down on the leather couch in front of the roaring fireplace, placing my feet on top of the arm rest. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Despite how exhausted I was, I just couldn't fall asleep. It felt as though my mind was in one place, my body in another. I wasn't fully aware of the footsteps bustling down the hall until they arrived right in front of the common room entrance. The dungeon door swung open, revealing the wide-eyed faces of none other than Crabbe and Goyle.

"Malfoy," Crabbe gasped, looking at me with a serious expression, "You should come see this."

I looked up at their red faces as they panted heavily. They stared at me frightfully, as if I might explode any second, but I didn't have the slightest clue as to what was going on.

"What could possibly be happening at 12 in the morning?" I asked as I stood up, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"It's Parkinson." Goyle sputtered, "We saw her up in the Astronomy tower, with Blaise."

The second I heard Pansy's name, I knew this wouldn't be good. I had hardly spoken to her at all this year, and even though we never did anything together, we had yet to end our romantic relationship.

"Blaise Zabini?" I scoffed, my eyes narrowing. "Doing what?"

"You better go see for yourself…" Crabbe said timidly.

They both took a step back, which was a wise decision. I pushed them aside and ran out into the dark corridor. My footsteps echoed off the walls as I ascended up the stairs. I tripped over my own feet more than once, practically blind in the unlit halls. I couldn't see it but, after about a minute or so of aimlessly running upwards, I was positive that I had made my way out of the dungeons.

I stepped to the right cautiously, my hand outstretched. It hit something hard, and I felt the engraved patterns on whatever cold metal I was touching. Moving forward, I touched a rather scratchy parchment, and I could only assume it was a portrait. This didn't narrow down where I was, and I was ultimately infuriated. As a final decision, I pulled out my wand, pointing it towards the floor.

"Lumos," I said quietly, the tip of my wand illuminating the walls around me. I raised my arm shakily, careful not to disturb any of the portraits around me. By now, the portraits were used to my light in the middle of the night, for more often than not I snuck out of my dormitory.

I kept alert for any sudden movements or noises, but for quite a while there were none. Gradually, I became wary of what was going on around me. I just had my mind focused on finding out what Crabbe and Goyle had been talking about. Blaise had been one of my closest friends since first year, we told each other just about everything. Towards the end of last year, though, we started to drift apart. I always knew that Blaise had had a thing for Pansy, he knew her even before I did. Despite that, she grew a liking for me instead, which Blaise was instantaneously livid at me for.

"You always have to have everything, don't you, Draco?" Blaise had said harshly, his lip curling in disgust.

"It's not my fault she likes me," I said defensively, "Maybe you should have told her you how you felt sooner. Maybe then she would have changed her mind."

"It wouldn't have changed her mind at all!" Blaise spat, his eyes narrowing, "You stupid prat, you ruin everything."

I glanced down at the floor, trying to disguise my hurt. I knew that an argument with Blaise over Pansy was inevitable, but I didn't expect him to be so crude.

"You're like your dad; Vile, cruel, and unforgivable." Blaise said coldly. My eyes shot up at these words, fury rushing through my veins.

"Don't you dare talk about my father!" I retorted, horrified that he would even hold him against me. He was the one person that I had ever told directly that my father was a Death Eater, and I was only hoping he wouldn't bring it up again.

"He's obviously the reason you turned out like you did; a coward," He muttered in an unregretful tone, adding one last blow to my self-esteem, "A failure."

If there was one thing I didn't enjoy being called, it was a failure. Not because I didn't believe it, but because it was true. I have never succeeded in anything since my start here at Hogwarts. I was always the one who was laughed at and had an accusing finger pointed at them. And it hurt me to now know that my closest friend was just another one of the people who felt the same way.

After that night in 4th year, Blaise and I didn't talk for almost a month. After a few awkward encounters and unavoidable conversations, we both agreed to pretend that that night had never occurred. Ever since, though, we could never really manage to look at each other the same way.

A loud crash seized me out of my thoughts and I found myself on the floor, my temple pulsing with pain. I was dazed for a moment, not sure what had just happened. By the time my thoughts recollected, there was a voice coming from down the hall.

"Who's there?" A low, raspy voiced called, the sound of their footsteps bouncing off the walls. I staggered backwards as I pushed myself up to a standing position, the pain still searing through my forehead. I couldn't quite determine whose voice it was, debating in my mind the different professors I could match it with, until they spoke out once more.

"Student out of bed!" They wheezed, a small 'meow' accompanying their words. My eyes widened as the hand covering my temple lowered slowly, now realizing who my pursuer was.

"Filch…" I breathed, turning on my heels and sprinting down the hall. I desperately flung myself down numerous amounts of corridors, trying to loose Filch along the way. I frantically ran up the staircases, trying to get out of range of the surprisingly fast caretaker, knowing that being caught would mean a lot of explaining. Eventually, I became out of breath, and leaned against a wall. Excluding my heavy panting, a solemn silence had set around me. I finally lost him somewhere behind me.

I glanced at my surroundings to judge my location, only looking into an unsettling darkness.

"Lumos," I whispered once more, my wand still gripped tightly in my hand. As I looked around, I noticed a tall staircase leading up to a large platform, the floor of it illuminated slightly by the starry night sky. I had reached the astronomy tower.

I had been to the astronomy tower more than once this year, usually just to isolate myself in a quiet environment, but it had never been so sudden. Usually when I snuck out, it was planned, my wand at the ready, my mind concentrated on arriving at the astronomy tower alone. Never had I been so close to being caught before, looking beyond the few times I had been in my early years at Hogwarts.

I shakily took a hold of the railing, slowly making my way up to the top. I was avoided making my steps loud; hoping to catch whatever was waiting for me above by surprise. I thought, for a moment, that this was all a big joke. Crabbe and Goyle were known for pulling pranks like these for their own personal amusement and although it wouldn't have made me any happier, it definitely would have been a relief. That thought soon came to end though, as I reached the last step, Blaise and Pansy turning their heads towards me simultaneously.

Pansy's arm fell from Blaise's shoulder, her mouth opening wide, trying to find the right words to say. Her eyes darted between Blaise and I, clearly expecting no would interrupt them.

"Draco…" She managed to say at last, her tone filled with emotion yet her expression as blank as stone.

"So this is what I get?" I said, swallowing hard. I couldn't let her see me show any signs of grief. I'd seem weak, especially since she didn't even seem to regret what she was doing to me.

"We were going to tell you earlier—" She started, but I cut her off coldly.

"How would telling me earlier have helped anything?"

She turned to Blaise for help, but he was looking down at his shoes awkwardly. I pulled out my wand and pointed it at him, which got his attention immediately.

"I trusted you…" I hissed as I closed the distance between us. My fists tightened and my voice cracked from restraining any tears. "I told you everything…"

I now had Blaise against the wall, his eyes closed, awaiting what I would do next. And I was going to do something, but I heard footsteps. I turned around to face the staircase, expecting to see a teacher, but it was merely Pansy walking up the stairs as a decoy. When I turned back to see where Blaise was before, he had vanished. I spun around once more to see that the place where they had stood previously was empty. I reacted speedily, dashing down the stairs.

When I reached the bottom, I could barely hear their mocking laughter as they sprinted down the corridor, an unsettling silence following the sound of a door creaking closed. I ran my hand through my hair, one of the many habits I developed to do whenever I felt dejected, such as now. I don't know why I agreed to date Pansy, maybe it was just because she was the closest girl friend that I had, but I could only guess that we wouldn't be so close after this.

I walked slowly down the desolate, dark hallways. The thought of getting caught after curfew didn't seem nearly half as bad as it did before what happened in the tower. I didn't want to go back to the common room, I didn't want to see either of their faces, but I had no place else to go.

Just as I was about to round the corner to go down my last flight of stairs, I heard a faint noise. The sound of someone crying. I took a few steps backwards and it got louder. I kept stepping back until I hit a wall, which was right next to the girl's lavatory entrance. Someone in there was clearly sobbing, definitely not Pansy, but a girl around the same age. I put my ear against the door, debating whether or not to go in and see who it was, but I shook my head, thinking better of it.

I turned the corner and descended down the stairs, suddenly stopping in my tracks. The girl's crying was so soft now it was barely audible, yet I could still sense the devastation it carried. I turned my head, taking a quick look at the door, and then stared down at the cold stone floor in front of me. Even if I did go and try to console her, I wouldn't do a very good job at it. I've never really been the most comforting person.

I sighed and entered back into the common room. The fire had gone out, Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen, and I could hardly keep my eyes open. I went up to the dormitories and flung myself onto my bed, not caring to see if Blaise was still awake. My eyes closed immediately, and I tried to convince my conscience that what had just happened was real. But my mind was fighting against realizing the truth. I struggled and struggled, eventually giving up. Sometimes believing in a lie is easier than facing reality.

(a/n) I was going to wait a while until I posted the second chapter, but I honestly couldn't help myself. I've already written it in advance and the urge to publish was overwhelming. I'm also really anxious because no one seems to be reviewing the first chapter. Don't be afraid of telling me what I did wrong. After all I'm simply an amateur writer who needs help to prosper. So that's it, I guess. Review please!


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